Thirteen's First Love
by JustAnother13Lover
Summary: A little bit on Thirteen's (dark) childhood and her first love. A self-para I wrote for a House RP that I'm no longer in. I've left it exactly as it was. Inspiration from a part of the episode titled "Changes" (7x20). One-shot.


**A/N: **This is actually a self-para I wrote for a House role-play I joined a while back (near enough the time I first started writing). It was my first RP ever and even though I'm no longer in it, I do miss everyone there. So, big hugs to anyone in that RP who's reading this now. :) I'm just sorry I couldn't stay.

I've left this self-para/one-shot exactly how it was when I first posted it-no editing done it. I haven't even read it since. XD

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**Inspiration from a part of the episode titled "Changes" (7x20). If you don't know which part I'm on about:**

_**Thirteen:**__ You, what, found my old yearbook and got a picture of my high school boyfriend._

_**House:**__ Actually, that would have been a lot simpler. I took this ten minutes ago... Your high school boyfriend who dumped you, leaving you unable to believe that anyone can rekindle an old flame._

_**Thirteen:**__ He dumped me after I hooked up with his sister._

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**Warnings: **Drug usage. Sex implications. Angsty-ness (it's me, what do you expect?). Probably got some typos in there, too. Sentences that probably make no sense. Awkward phrasings. The whole works.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own House. No copyright infringement intended.

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**THIRTEEN'S FIRST LOVE**

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Remy Beauregard Hadley - like most girls during their high school years - had dreams.

Of course, her rather unfortunate upbringing had guided her thoughts more towards the pessimistic route, but the brunette still had dreams and goals that she aspired to one day achieve.

Although Remy may not be a firm believer of 'happily ever after's now, she had her fair share of hopeful imaginings as a young child. She hadn't always been bitter and twisted towards the sheer thought of happiness; in fact, Remy had been one of those girls whose heart would just leap as she'd stare into an empty space with glossy eyes at the thought of one day growing up with her 'true love' in a quaint house with a white picket fence, flirting with the idea of maybe one day having children who she could raise and love. Children that, maybe one day, would have their own children and would raise them as she had her own. She wanted to grow old with the one she loved, reassured by the fact that her life had been nothing but long, happy and fulfilling.

Her mind had been set on one day leaving behind her home to start a new life. She couldn't wait to leave behind her mother and run far, far away; leave behind the monster that would, on many occasions, scream and shout what seemed like endless series of profanities. On more than one occasion, the brunette would cower in the corner of her room with legs brought up to her chest, hiding her head between her arms that would wrap around her body. She would try to block out the tormenting comments that were directed at her, to no avail; then again, it was hard to hear – especially from her own _mother_ – how much of a _disappointment_ she was. At every shameful accusation spewed from the monster's mouth, Remy would feel as though her heart was vehemently being torn apart.

It was always, "_Remy, you're a disappointment to the family!"_ or "_I can't believe I gave birth to someone like you… You can't even look me in the eyes!_"

She couldn't fathom why her mother would treat her as though she was the most prized possession in the universe - looking at her with such pride that made Remy blush (something that she seldom did) - but then a few minutes later, cuss at the child, yelling how much of a _pathetic waste of space_ she was. The first few times that this ever happened, the brunette would be confused as to her mother's erratic temperament, wondering whether it was her own fault for her mother's outbreak. It got worse and worse over the years, so far to the point where her friends were too _scared_ to even stand outside the house, in fear that the crazy woman would go mental and throw things. Some of her friends had turned on Remy, sneering and mocking her, stating that she would probably end up like that, helpless in her own body; they hadn't known how close they were at the time. Come the fifth or sixth outburst, the young girl's hatred towards her mother had grew like a plague, smothering her mind with reasons why she was better off without the monster.

The woman wasn't always like that, but to Remy, that's what made things worse. Every time she looked at the woman, she could see a part of her mother still inside, clawing her way out. It only hurt more when the monster would throw more malicious words around, for no reason whatsoever.

By the time that Remy was eight, her mother had already started to lose control of her body. It became more often that her mother would suddenly jerk her arm out, smacking the young child with a brutal strength – though the emotional response hurt deeper than any beating. To say that Remy was embarrassed or ashamed was an understatement. She hated her life; she hated the monster that ruined her childhood. She would avoid her mother at all costs, becoming more and more independent, wishing for a way out of the quicksand she was embedded in.

The only things fueling her on were the thoughts of one day living in that quaint house, with that picket fence, actually flirting with the idea of children with her loving husband. Hope was the only thing that was driving her on.

Remy had no idea that her mother had no choice in the way she had been acting, that her mother was dying. She had no idea that the degenerative disease was eating away at the older woman. Her father would always try to sit the child down to explain why her mother was the way she was, but Remy would have none of it. She didn't care what her father had to say; in her eyes, he was a traitor. What kind of father would defend the monster that would abuse his daughter? To young Remy, it was simple: her parents didn't love her. And in return, her love for them also diminished to nothing. She was oblivious to the fact that her mother was struggling to even think coherently, that she was drowning in the endless pit of nothingness. The only thing that Remy would acknowledge was the fact that her mother would forget who her own _daughter_ was; she would accuse the young brunette as trespassing on private property, threatening to call the police as her body violently jerked around. It was much worse than rubbing salt into the already very open wounds.

So come the day that her father whisked away her mother to the care facility, not before pleading Remy to come along, which she had declined with hateful glares, she had felt relieved. Relieved that her dreams seemed to be much easier to achieve now that the monster was no longer in the way. Though her friends had still yet to treat her with the same respect as they had used to, it was okay. Remy had learnt to be okay with it. She was even okay with her father's cold responses. Yes, she felt a little rejected by his unwillingness to engage in long talks, but for the brunette, it was still okay. _At least the monster is gone_, she would think. It did seem harsh, but Remy had been so lonely through her whole childhood that it turned her cold. She felt as though she couldn't trust anyone, because they'd turn around and abandon her like her friends had, like her own flesh and blood had.

Her mother's death followed in upcoming year. Remy was only ten at the time.

At first, like when her mother was taken away to the care facility, Remy felt a sense of relief. Her mother would never again bother her. For the few months, her father had withdrawn from conversations altogether, letting his daughter do whatever she pleased, as it had hurt too much to even think about it all.

Then came the beginning of her new high school; Newton North High School. Along with the change in school came the change in her own self. She had left her old ex-friends behind, starting a new life, hoping for a fresh start. Due to her lack of friends in her childhood, she preferred to keep to herself. Being closed off meant that she was less likely to get hurt. But then puberty hit, and then both her emotions and hormones were erratic as her mother's jerking body had been. The guilt for the way she had treated her mother began to slowly ebb into her mind. It took just one lesson in a biology class on Genetic Diseases for her to suddenly realise that it wasn't her mother's fault. Remy felt worse than she had when her mother was screaming and splitting in her face. In truth, the brunette would have her mother alive and stabbing her heart with those insults that had rendered her to be insecure, if it meant that she could apologise for the way she had acted. She hated her childhood still, but she couldn't find it in herself to blame her mother. The guilt bubbled under the surface under her skin every day, making her teenage years seem nothing but pure torture. She bare to look at herself, for she was worse than the monster that she had assumed her mother was.

Through all of the confusion and self-hatred, Remy Hadley _needed_ a friend. Her first friend at Newton North High School had been Ricky; her best friend and then soon boyfriend. Through everything, Ricky stayed by her side. It took a lot of work getting Remy to try and open up, but Ricky was a very patient, understanding person. He was the type that seemed to be perfect; a good background, raised like a true gentleman with a promising future and high ambitions. For that same reason, Remy knew that it wasn't going to work between them. As he gained higher and higher grades, hers began slipping; slipping like her mind was slipping. She knew that she was no good for him, that she didn't deserve him. More and more times, she would visit the school library without him knowing, to research the disease that she had found out could affect her own life more so than it already had. She tried not to think about it, but she knew that no matter how many times she pushed it to the side, like a pendulum, it would swing back with more force.

Without Ricky's knowing, she began participating in extra-curricular activities, such as drinking and smoking: reckless things to take her mind off of the agonising pain. For about a year and a half they dated. Her handsome boyfriend had been nothing but caring and loyal, devoting his love to the damaged girl. He would have done anything for her. Yet she couldn't find it in her to completely open up to tell her boyfriend the truth about her history; she was afraid that he'd leave her, like everyone else had left her. She didn't want to stick a knife in the wounds and rip them open again. Experiencing that kind of pain once was more than enough times for the broken girl. He had given her his heart in return for hers, taken her first kiss, her virginity, offered her support and a warm embrace, yet she didn't truly feel happy.

She loved Ricky, she just wasn't sure whether she was _in_ love with Ricky. Remy needed someone, and Ricky was the only one there. She loved him as a best friend, but couldn't will herself to see him more than that. She wanted desperately to love her charming boyfriend, but as time went by, those bouts of confusion struck again. Only this time, it was much different.

Remy Hadley began to think things, began to _feel_ things, which she didn't understand. Sure, thanks to Ricky, she had new friends, but she hadn't let any of them close enough feel comfortable talking about these things. She was independent – after growing up with only herself to confide in, the brunette kept her personal issues to herself. Remy had begun to look at people, or more specifically, girls, much more _closely_. It caught her off-guard when she realised that she found herself staring more at _girls'_ body, rather than their faces during conversation. She couldn't shake the warm coils in her stomach, as she'd see a girl wearing clothing that were _far_ too revealing. She begun to notice herself picking out features in other girls that she was attracted too, and it scared her. She wasn't ready to accept the fact that she had found another reason for others to judge and talk about her.

But over the next few weeks, her relationship with Ricky began to waver. As she waded further through the chaos of her messed-up life, she began slipping further and further away from her boyfriend. Her dreams felt achievable no longer. Every night she would list more and more reasons as to why she didn't deserve him and why he deserved so much better. She couldn't bear to tell him in person, for she was so ashamed of herself. She was just a coward.

She had told herself she would one day break it off before he would find out about her doubts and changed mind, but luck seemed to avoid her like she was Satan himself.

_Ricky was going out for the night with a group of friends, leaving his girlfriend at his house for a few hours. Of course, he refused multiple times to leave her alone, begging her to join him, but Remy would hear no more of it. She explained that he should go out and have fun, stating that she was too tired to go out, and would rather sleep. Truthfully, she just couldn't bear the thought of being around those who were so happy – they could never understand what it was like to be her, as much as they'd try._

_With a kiss on the cheek, her boyfriend left the house, not before saying those three words that always made Remy's heart shatter. She loved him, but wasn't _in love_ with him. He, on the other hand, seemed to be so enamored by the brunette._

_Every time he'd whisper, "I love you", Remy would wish nothing more than to cower in the corner of her bedroom as she had many times before, at her mother's hand. In reply, she would always find some deflecting, witty, comment, such as, "that's good, because boyfriends should love their girlfriends", which would enable her to please him without actually having to confess her non-existing love for him._

_As soon as he walked out of the front door, Remy threw the covers to the side, off her body so that she could grab the bag she had hidden under the bed. The brunette hated how she kept so many secrets from her boyfriend, but she couldn't open up to him, or anyone else, for that matter. She was barely dealing with her own problems… How could she expect to cope with another person pounding and lecturing her for all the reckless things she'd done? The only thing that she took pride in thinking was that she hadn't slept with anyone other than Ricky – she was fiercely loyal. Even so, Remy still had her secrets._

_Pulling out the tools required for what she was about to do and laying them down on the bed sheets, she twisted her body around so that she could push the pillow up against the headboard of the bed, making it more comfortable to learn back on. Shrugging off her jacket, she grabbed the elastic and tied a knot around her upper right arm, using her teeth to pull the other side. It wasn't the first time that she had done this, but it was the first time she had done this alone – and definitely the first time she had done it in her boyfriend's house. Remy usually wouldn't even consider doing the illegal act here, but she caved into her own weak mind, unable to ignore the fact that she _needed_ this escape._

_The brunette leaned back against the pillows, with another object from the bag in her hand. She tapped the object in her hand before bringing the sharp edge to her skin below the elastic. Breathing in a deep breath whilst closing her eyes, Remy allowed the sharp point of the syringe to break the skin. The sting brought a fresh set of tears to her eyes, but she pushed them back. Her arm tensed, and she felt her muscles contracting around the object as she slid the needle further into her body. It hurt, but she knew that it would be worth it as she pushed the plunger._

_And it was worth it. As the morphine – stolen from the school nurse – enters the brunette's blood stream, she leans her head back against the pillow, waiting a few seconds before slowly pulling out the used syringe. For a moment, nothing seemed to matter. She didn't care about anything, not even as she sloppily flicked the syringe off the bed. Her pain was slowly ebbing away, and in it's place, came the euphoric tingling sensation. Remy's body felt no longer her own._

_The first few times, she had felt completely crazed, scared shitless, begging for it all to be over, but this time, she could truly revel in the calming sensations. The Remy she was before floated away as the drugs spread throughout her system, coaxing away the never-ending pain and replacing it with the surreal, dream-like state. Her world became a jumble of mangled and contorted sounds and colours and smells. Remy soon had no idea where she was, how she ended up on the soft, silky bed, suspended in a state of blurred reality, strung somewhere in the gray area between wakefulness and sleep. It was amazing, to say the least. Her mind spun around and around and around in the most wonderful way, spiraling through a jumble of thoughts, images and flickering sensations. She could feel everything, yet nothing at all. Everything kept fading to black, only seconds later, to come washing back like the lazy tides on a white, sandy beach. For what seemed like an eternity, she lay there, in a state of magnificent deliriousness._

_The higher you are, though, the harder you fall._

_Remy hadn't been expected the door of her boyfriend's bedroom to open during those few hours. She was so tangled in the freeness that the drugs brought that she didn't realise anyone was there until a voice startled her from her thoughts._

_"Hey, Rick! I'm back- oh, Remy? Sorry, I didn't expect you to be here."_

_The brunette's eyes snapped open and landed on the familiar face. The drugs were at its peak, preventing Remy from identifying the girl in front of her. Although her mind was a little hazy, she still managed to pick up on the fact that the girl – who looked slightly concerned at Remy's disheveled appearance – was gorgeous. From the comfortable position on her boyfriend's bed, the brunette smirked at the girl who was advancing her._

_"Remy, are you _high_?" the red head asked, though it was more of a dubious accusation. Noticing the equipment on the bed, and also the fallen syringe on the floor, her eyes widened. "I don't believe it…"_

_Remy, still unable to piece a name to the face, shrugged as she pushed herself up, ripping off the elastic that was still tied to her upper arm. In her drug-induced mind, it was hard to control her actions; it was hard to hold back. And so she didn't._

_Like the morphine coursing through her veins, she allowed her instincts to take over her body. In one quick motion, the brunette reached up to grab the back of the red head's neck, bringing the woman's head down to crash her lips against the other girl's lips. Much like the state Remy's mind was in, it was sloppy yet exhilarating. Almost too soon, though, the red head pulled back._

_"Rem, we can't do this. Y-you… you're with my brother! I-I can't do this to him!"_

_The brunette, still thinking irrationally due to the blissful feelings the drugs delivered, growling a blunt, "I don't fucking care."_

_And that was the last thing said for the rest of the night as the two women collided together in a frenzied need, both getting high off the euphoric sensations that their bodies brought. Their lips crashed in synchronised dance. Their hands wandered freely and Remy briefly mused with the idea that she had found the eighth wonder of the world. The night was full of endless torrents of breathless pants, whimpers and moans. To Remy, it was incredible. Though her mind was clouded, she knew – for once, she actually _knew_ – that she liked both men and women._

_Morning came fast, but both women, literally tangled up in each other as their night had been physically and mentally – yet not emotionally – exhausting, were both asleep as the front door of the house unlocked._

_Remy couldn't hear the masculine voice calling out her name._

_Remy had still been asleep, her naked body tangled up in an also very naked red head's body, as the door to the room opened._

_Remy definitely wasn't expecting a voice to wake her up from her slumber._

_"Baby, I'm back. I've missed you so- what the _fuck_ is this!"_

_The brunette's eyes widened as the details of last night came charging back to her mind like a raging bull, with too-vivid awareness. She felt the red head, who lay half on the brunette, rouse from her peaceful sleep, yet not so peaceful awakening. The red head that she had slept with… Her _boyfriend's sister_._

_Although Remy wasn't in love with Ricky anymore, it still hurt to see him look so anguished. For fucks sake, he just found out that his _girlfriend_ had just slept with his _sister_. Remy felt so sick with herself, and when she tried to untangle herself from the other woman and apologise, felt her heart break as Ricky told her to get out._

_There was no warmth in the voice – Remy hadn't really expected it to a warm welcoming, but she had never heard the guy in front of her sound so malicious.. So instead of trying to explain herself, she nodded once and watched as Ricky stormed from the room. She swore she saw a tear escape from his eyes._

_She had broken him. She truly didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve anyone._

And that was how her first heartbreak came about. She loved her boyfriend, maybe not as much as he loved her, but she still felt something towards the guy who had stuck by her side during the hardest years of her life. Remy knew that she had already demolished any chance of at least staying friends with Ricky, but deep inside her, she thought that it was better off that way.

Better to stay unattached – less hurt that way.

Remy never came into contact with her ex-boyfriend or his sister after that. She had assumed that they had both left to another school, with a new-sparked hatred between the siblings. The brunette felt guilty, but this time, as she really had no one, she did the only thing – and would continue to do the only thing – she could think of to ease the pain.

When she wasn't studying hard to become a doctor (a thing that she was doing only to prove to herself that she wasn't as useless as she felt), Remy would engage in bouts of drugs, drinks and numerous occasions of one-night-stands to ease the pain of her shitty past. It would never really take the pain away; it was more a distraction than anything else. Even so, it became a distraction that was more and more common in the damaged girl's life. A distraction that, although wasn't a particularly good 'happily ever after', was the only way that she could slip away for a few hours, falling inside the grey, foggy depths of her own mind.

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**A/N: **I'd love to know what you guys think.

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**Edited (like 5 mins after WildForWilde's review): **"_u lil shit_"? ...fuck you. (I love you.)


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